Harder You Try The Harder You Fall
by killthepain62
Summary: So as a kid I loved this series and I honestly don't know who reads this anymore, but I thought I would write this anyway. This is a Wildwing story with an OC and she is human. There aren't enough of these so I thought it would make things a little interesting. I don't own Mighty Ducks, just my OC Cat. Rated T for violence and swearing.


Hi my name is Kat "Kathryn" Jessop. I live in Anaheim, California, and would you know it I work at the Pond – a once famous hockey rink. It's actually my favorite rink of all time; See my dad was a hard core hockey fan. He would attend the Frogs' games religiously – in fact that's how he met my mom. He went to the opening night and accidentally dropped his face paint in my mom's hair, but she didn't mind because she was just as huge a fan. From then on out every date they had was a hockey game (and you thought I was kidding when I said hardcore). I have been going to hockey games since I was two, most of them were at the Pond. When I was three my little sister, Ariel, was born. We grew up like any average family, but I personally thought that our family was amazing and special. Ariel and I could stay up late if there was a hockey game going on, during the winter Olympics our parents would pull us out of school to watch the matches, and at one point we moved to a cul-de-sac so we could play street hockey. However, as I got older I was pulled into other things than just hockey. I took riding lessons and dance classes, and at one point I was talked into being Class President for my freshman year of high school. My other obligations started to separate me from my family, and it was for the worse.

I started to fight with my parents about how hockey wasn't everything. I would go out more often and make several prior commitments to avoid our weekly hockey game. After we had began to drift apart my dad had decided to go to a hockey game every week to try and keep us together, it didn't even have to be the Frogs any more. Trying to stay true to my side of the dispute I would usually go to those games grumbling, but when I walked through the Pond doors it would be as if all of the previous fights with my family and my aversions melted away in the love of the game. Yet the next day it would start all over again. Then there was that one time, the one time I lied. The argument was heated and my sister had locked herself away in her room so she wouldn't have to hear it. Then my father yelled that I was a part of this family and I should start acting like it – he told me that I would be going to the game that Friday night. I don't know how my anger got me angry enough to lie to my father, especially since I loved hockey. So I lied and told him that I had to help set up for our church's dance that night. My mother managed to calm us down, but I was already in shock from how easy it was for me to lie and to believe that lie. So before the game that night my parents dropped me off at the church and the second they left, I started walking back home. I just sat in my house and fixed the wheels on my skates that I used for my street hockey team. I even watched a little bit of the game on TV – the Frogs were getting creamed, which started to become the norm because the Frogs haven't won a game in months.

It was five hours later when Captain Klegghorn arrived at my house. He told me that my family had died in a car accident. They were leaving the Pond when criminal in high speed pursuit T-boned them and flipped the car. I can't remember how long I stood there and just stared at him; I thought he was insane. My parents were going to stop by the Froztie Cone for ice cream with my sister and come home to tell me all about the game. I told myself they would be home soon…but they never did come home. I was only fifteen. Klegghorn took me into protective custody and eventually I was put into foster care. I stayed with a family of four. Though the parents liked me the other kids didn't so I stayed quiet a lot of the time and we rarely crossed paths outside of the house. The set up worked for us. Sometime later in the year of my family's death the Frogs broke apart and our team ceased to exist. I spent my weeks filled with homework and the commitments I had made to other people. On the weekend I would play street hockey with all of my old friends from morning to evening. The next few years of my life went by in a sort of haze – where the days would blur together.

When I turned eighteen I left my temporary family. I had no idea where to go so I went back to the one place I knew the best, the Pond. The door was locked so I couldn't go in, but I sat out front and stared out at the empty parking lot, thinking if it would have been any different if I would have been there rather than hiding behind a lie. Before I could even begin to cry Phil, owner of the Pond, told me to get lost. I told him that I was looking for a job, another lie, and his attitude completely changed. Apparently his janitor had just quit on him and he needed someone to make the place look decent. I took the job for a little over minimum wage and I only had Sundays off. It kept me really busy and it kept me from drifting off on memories, but only for the first couple weeks. Once I started running out of work I started having these flashbacks that would have tears streaming down my face, so I started asking Phil for more work. He asked me why, he thought that this comfy of a job I shouldn't want more work. He didn't understand, but he started letting me repair certain parts of the building, after spending hours reading the manual. After that I started cleaning the gear and helping Phil manage finances. After a year working together we realized that we couldn't keep the place up unless we rented out to someone. That someone ended up being the Destroyers; I can remember watching them play with my family and to put it nicely they were downright rotten. Phil said that they had been kicked out of every league, and I believed it, but at least they were willing to pay for all of the expenses for every month. So they would bring in challengers off the streets and from the bars and pummel them on the ice.

After four months they were running out of naïve competitors and I was running out of patience. I started begging Phil to find a new team so we wouldn't have to rely on the Destroyers, but he constantly reminded me that if we let them go we had to let go of the Pond and we would both be short one home. I lived in the basement and with the extra equipment – it's one of the few places I had never seen in the Pond as a child, one of the few places where I had no memories to haunt me. Phil actually has an apartment outside the rink, but I don't mind living in the basement.

Then one day during a big brawl between the Destroyers and some new competitor in the rink I went in and I tried to stop the whole thing, but I ended up in the middle of the fight dodging blows. Then I missed one where I should have ducked; the Destroyer's team Capitan, Jeff Gorgon, has a wonderful right hook, as I had the displeasure to learn. After I went down Phil called the cops and the Destroyers were held in the tank for a couple nights. Even now my face is still bruised, and since then Phil has stopped accepting their money (weird huh?). With our money supply gone the Pond was scheduled for demolition in three weeks. The Destroyers came back anyway, but at least they wouldn't have the satisfaction of reclaiming the rink for very long.

"Yo, Kat, where you at?"

Even with my mind distant I still managed to stop the incoming puck the Night Watch tried to nail me with. My team goes wild, but I'm still living the moment we got the date for the destruction the Pond.

"Alright, time out," calls Jimmy, my long time friend and best lead for street hockey. He and the team gather around me for one of my moral support moments. "Where are you, Kat? Are you flashing back to that night? Well snap out of it. If they win we have to fork over money for their dinner."

"I'm sorry, Jim. It's just…I can't believe their tearing her down," I say looking back at the Pond.

The others frown as they look up at the walls that once housed some of their own beautiful memories. I met so many of my teammates at those games I went to. Jim and I were the first to meet there; we had both got separated from our parents so we watched the game together until security found us and took us back to our parents, who by some magical chance were sitting next to each other. Losing the Pond was going to be hard on all of us.

"It's alright, Kat. Remember the saying, 'Don't be sad because it's gone. Be happy because it happened.' Besides we're the memories you get to keep with you," he says smiling. I smile back, finally returning to the present. We score two more times and take the game. My friends all head back to their apartments, and I laugh to myself – is it really strange for adults to be playing street hockey? I always thought that it was something more for teenagers, but when I really think about it I guess it isn't too strange. Not as strange as living in the basement of your workplace. As I'm walking in the Destroyers are coming out – and all I can hear is the whistles and cat calls. What is it about a girl in goalie equipment that made these guys so pushy? As I walk by them I whisper under my breath, "One of these days someone is going to kick your ass and I will be so happy when it happens."

The next day was Monday and of course the Destroyers had left a mess the day before so I got started cleaning up early and as I passed the boards I notice my reflection and see that the entire right side of my face was purple. What an annoying bunch of ogres. As I continue to work on the mess the Destroyers arrive early for their "practice" so I went ahead and took a seat in the stands and watched them race up and down the court chasing a puck between their six players. Somewhere along the way I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I'm hearing is Phil talking sporadically.

"Phil, wait a second. Okay now I'm wake enough not to hear Swedish coming out of your mouth. What's going on?" I yawn.

"I got us a team!" Phil exclaims.

"Are you serious?" I say smiling.

"Kat, say hello to the Mighty Ducks," he says and dramatically gestures to the ice.

I look down to see ducks, life sized, humanoid ducks. At first I think I'm delusional, but then I rub my eyes and look again and sure enough there they were. They were skating circles around the Destroyers and I feel my face light up. I knew they were going to get their asses kicked at one point or another, but I never knew it would be life sized, humanoid, hockey playing ducks from another planet doing it. There were six ducks total, unless they had someone else on the sidelines nearby that I didn't know about. The goalie is a medium built (for human standards) white drake that only has eye protection on due to his bill. Behind the see-through plastic I can see dark eyes narrowed in concentration as the Destroyers try to return the puck. The two defensemen coming at the puck are also drakes. One is a huge guy with a gray coat of feathers, a small ponytail present on his head. As he checks the two wings and a defenseman, I shudder; there was no way I would ever want to go up against him. The other defenseman is very lean and agile. The drake has feathers on his head the swoop down to look very much like hair, some of it is a lighter color indicating that he had been around the block somewhat. That was also exemplified by the small chip of his bill that was missing and his…IS THAT AN EYE PATCH?!

"Phil! That defenseman is wearing an eye patch! How can he do that? His depth perception should be blown to hell," I exclaim all at once.

"Relax, Boobella. Duke said he has had that eye patch for years and I'm sure he's had a lot of practice with one-eyed hockey; considering their planet plays it 24/7," he remarks.

He turns back to his phone and I turn back to the match. Duke is the name of the smaller defenseman. It fit – he kind of has a "John Wayne" air about him. The only other drake on the team is their left wing he is even leaner than Duke and has an almost peach colored cover of feathers and blond "hair" at this point he looks angry and I can't blame him. The Destroyers have that affect on people and ducks too I suppose. The other two were hens; the center, much like the left wing has peach feathers and is blond, but her hair seems to stand up naturally. The other noticeable thing about her is the fact that she is wearing these large pink goggles – they almost look like funky sunglasses, but I doubted that. Sunglasses and hockey don't really mix unless you want to have an accident. The last player is a red head female with the same peach feathers. I'm beginning to wonder if the human colored feathers were a dominant trait on their planet.

I didn't really have time to think about it because I saw one of the Destroyers going for one of their most devastating moves on – DUKE!

"DUKE! INCOMING AT 5 AND 7!" I shout.

He must have heard me because his skates trade the ice for air and the two wings stumble where Duke once was. Duke lands a little uneasy, but recovers quickly and is back in the game.

"Shut your trap you little bitch!" yells Jeff.

The game has stopped and Phil sits stiffly beside me. I stand up and head for the nearest stairs, but I catch Phil's whisper:

"Kat, you don't have to do this."

I remain stoic as I watch the Destroyers. Phil's right I don't have to do this, I don't have to play this game, but with the ducks leading 7 to 2 there was no way I was going to miss this.

"Well my talking shouldn't mess you up that bad. It hasn't messed with the ducks. I can't help it if you're a bunch of losers," I say nonchalantly.

"WHAT!?" rages Jeff.

"You are so bad at hockey the only way you can win is by cheating. I bet you can't even win a round of tic-tack-toe," I say.

I didn't really know just how mad Jeff was because the next thing I know a hockey stick is hurtling at my head so fast I barely duck in time. I watch the stick splinter behind me before I stand up and look at Jeff again. His face is completely red.

"Come on down here and I'll beat the other side of your face so dark the other side will look white," he shouts.

Instinctively my hand goes to the large bruise on the one side of my face. I manage to keep a straight face and my eyes locked on Jeff. I couldn't find a witty retort and apparently I didn't have to. Because Duke came up from behind and pulled a foot out from under Jeff, effectively making him eat ice.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you: that's no way to treat a lady?" Duke snapped as he stopped in front of Jeff. Jeff tries to get back up, but at this point the ducks are surrounding him. I have never known Jeff to be afraid, but he certainly didn't look too happy about being surrounded.

"I don't know if all human's play dirty on the ice, but if all of you are that mean off the ice you're gonna have another thing coming," said the white drake.

"Yeah," Phil interjects, "the ducks rule this pond. Now, scram before I call the cops." Phil pulls his new cell phone out as he waves it at them threateningly. Reluctantly they leave the ice and I come down to the ice to introduce myself to the new alien duck ice hockey team that Phil just found…Never thought those word would be used in the same sentence.


End file.
